


Spaghetti and No Bullets or Alcohol

by Diary



Category: A Single Man (2009), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Kingsman Fusion, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Fail, Canon Gay Character, Crossover, Dinner, Families of Choice, Friendship/Love, Gen, George Falconer Survives, Late Night Conversations, POV George Falconer, POV Male Character, POV Queer Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7803586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minor Crossover. AU. “Kenny, you’re welcome to stay, but feel free to leave. Charley has never quite learned the proper etiquette of inviting one to dinner.” Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spaghetti and No Bullets or Alcohol

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own A Single Man or Kingsman.

George suspects Charley is up to something, and when the doorbell rings and he opens the door to find Kenny, his suspicion is confirmed.

“Hello, sir,” Kenny greets. “Mrs Williams called and told me I needed to come over.”

His typical grin has an almost imperceptible concern mixed in.

Sighing, George turns. “Charlotte!”

Charley breezes in and unrepentantly tugs Kenny inside. “I made sure he didn’t have any plans and liked spaghetti. You’re having supper with us, dear.”

George closes the door but reaches over to stop Kenny from taking off his jacket. “’And tell me, Charley, did you ask if he’d already eaten?”

“Oh,” is her response.

“Kenny, you’re welcome to stay, but feel free to leave. Charley has never quite learned the proper etiquette of inviting one to dinner.”

“If you don’t mind, sir, some spaghetti sounds good.”

Charley shoots him a triumphant grin and reaches over to help with Kenny’s jacket. “Good. Now, as George will only too happily point out, I can’t cook worth a damn. Luckily, he’s made our meal for the night. What would you like to drink?”

...

Charlotte has cleverly arranged them so George can’t discreetly reach over and pinch her. Furthermore, if he tries kicking her, he risks kicking Kenny.

Worse yet, none of them have any alcohol.

“Since George is so very fond of you, I thought it’d be nice to get to know you better,” Charley says. “And of course, George would be an insufferable fuss if I tried to do it without his supervision.”

Kenny nods, as if being more-or-less tricked into attending a dinner by his former professor’s friend with said friend and former professor is nothing to even question. “What would you like to know, ma’am?”

“Don’t feel compelled to-“

“Quiet, George,” Charley orders. “I’m not looking for intimate secrets.”

George can only hope she’s sincere.

“How old are you, for starters?”

Despite his resolution to limit himself to one glass of scotch a night, he’s tempted to get some, hand Kenny a beer, and nip over to see if the Strunks have any gin and/or vodka they’d be willing to part with.

Kenny smiles brightly. “I turned twenty-one last month. Professor Falconer gave me a biography of Rimbaud.”

Charlotte absently nods. “Right, hopefully you won’t be such a snob as some people,” and it turns out she’s able to safely kick him from her spot, “but I don’t know much about literary characters.”

“Arthur Rimbaud was a French poet, ma’am. He’s one of favourites, and about two years ago, someone anonymously gave me leather-bound copy of all his works.”

Perhaps, Kenny isn’t the one I should be worried about, he reflects. I should fear for myself.

“Did they now? Well, are you an English major, then? Or is it called something else? I was never one for school, and of course, George here went to university a year early.”

Kenny looks at him with surprise, and his voice is eager when he says, “You never told me that, sir.”

“That’s because I didn’t,” George responds. “In my last year of college, uh, that is, more-or-less the equivalent to American high school, I spent a summer auditing classes at a nearby university. Charley insists on translating this into-”

“Well, it sure felt like it, the way you either dragged me with you or utterly ignored me in favour of doing homework.”

“Homework, sir?”

“One of the professors was fond of me,” he explains, “and let me do assignments with the rest of the class.”

He’s not sure what the term is nowadays for someone more interested in books and assignments than life, but he’s sure Kenny believes him to fit it.

In truth, he’s not. He was plenty rebellious as a teenager, he just also happened to be clever enough to hide it in addition to genuinely enjoying schoolwork, if not school itself.

As he got older, until he met Jim and Charley got divorced, tempering down his urges to go out and drink, dance, and socialise and letting himself get lost in his work was the best way he knew how to hide himself.

“Anyway,” Charley cheerfully says to Kenny, “back to you. What are you going to university for?”

“I’m not quite sure, ma’am. Psychology and social work has always interested in me, but- I’m not sure those fields in the real world are best suited for me,” Kenny answers. He grins at George. “But I never really believed how much you could actually learn from teachers until I took an Intro to English class two years ago.”

A gleam comes into Charley’s eyes, and George decides he’ll kick someone if she says anything about the anonymous book donation.

However, Kenny continues, “One of Lois’s cousins has a drive-in movie theatre, and I’ve been working there since I was fifteen or sixteen.”

“Right, I think I remember George mentioning something about a Lois once. She’s your girlfriend?”

George clears his throat, but Kenny shoots him a brief, unreadable look before answering, “No, ma’am. We tried dating when we were younger, but it never really meant much to either of us. We’re just good friends.”

“Do you have a girlfriend, though?”

Kenny’s smile is perfectly polite. George isn’t sure if there’s a twinkle of something in his eyes or not. “No, ma’am. What about you and Professor Falconer? Didn’t the two of you date before you married Mr Williams?”

When Kenny had taken the bullets to the gun with him, George had never bothered to go buy more.

He’s deeply regretting not doing so.

“We were once in engaged.”

It’s so causal it takes a moment for the words to register, and when he does, he ignores the way Kenny’s looking at him and tilts his head at Charley.

She shrugs. “It’s not something most people know. George has always been afraid people would think he was the villain, when really, the truth is that it’s probably for the best.”

Sighing, George forces himself to look at Kenny but watches Charlotte out of the corner of his eye. “Well, I am the one who broke it off, after all. I even encouraged her to date someone else. Of course, if not for Clay, I’d regret that.”

Charley gives a soft laugh. “I’m not sure I would, even with how it all ended.”

Kenny has finished most of his plate, and he appears to be sipping his soft drink in order to hide how curious he truly is.

“Would you like some more, Kenny,” he asks.

“Get some more tea for me while you’re up, darling."

“Some more would be great, but I can get it, sir."

“No, stay,” George tells him.

Once he gets back, Charley says, “During the war, George had some fool notion of enlisting.” She gives him a dirty look, and he rolls his eyes. “But my father and his were good friends with Henry Hart, someone high in MI5 or 6, I can never remember which one?”

“Like James Bond, right?”

“Not anywhere near as a glamorous, but in a way, yes,” George answers.

Upon seeing her bewildered look, he explains, “James Bond is a British spy, Charley, written by Ian Fleming. Americans seem more in love with his works than we are.”

“Well, anyway, I’m still convinced Mr Hart had something to do with George not enlisting, although, of course, George will list all the ways I’m a complete silly-billy for thinking that. But Mr Hart has always loved the Falconers, dearly. He was so happy when George’s cousin married one of his grandsons or grandnephews. They recently had a baby, actually, a little Harry Hart.”

“What does Professor Falconer not enlisting have to do with you not getting married?”

“Nothing, really,” Charley answers. “Or well, not exactly. I desperately wanted to come here, and George had made plans to bring us both. Before he could, though, Mr Hart brought over a young G.I. for dinner at the Falconer house one night. And-” She pauses.

George reaches over, squeezes her hand, and smiles. “And I trust Charley implicitly. Nothing happened between the two. But I saw how they looked at one another, and I knew, if she gave him the chance, he could offer her a different sort of love than I could. Therefore, I insisted on breaking the engagement.”

While he doesn’t believe Hart prevented his enlistment, he has always privately felt the man disapproved of his and Charley’s engagement and brought young men around in response. Although, whether his intent was to give her more choices or manage to entrap George himself, George has never quite decided on. Somehow, he’s always felt Hart knew about his homosexuality.

“My dad says, if another war happens, he’s rolling me in a carpet, putting me in my mom’s station wagon, and driving me to Mexico. He was sixteen or seventeen during the First World War, and then, he fought again in the second. He’s proud of his service, but he says he’ll be damned if I go anywhere near the army. I- sometimes think he literally believes that.”

George gives what he hopes is a sympathetic smile.

“He might,” Charley says. “I’m proud of my ex-husband for his bravery, but I never, ever want our son to die because governments, pardon the language, can’t get their shit together.”

Kenny laughs. “I think that’s mostly how my dad sees it, too.” He smiles. “Thank you for the invitation, Mrs Williams.”

“The coercive way-”

“Oh, do be quiet, George,” Charley orders. “This young man saved your life, and you obviously think highly of him. I wanted to get a better idea of who he is.”

“I think highly of Professor Falconer, too, ma’am.”

Charley beams. “He used to tell me about this interesting young man and his delightful girlfriend in his class. I presume that’s Miss Lois?”

“Lois Yamaguchi, ma’am. She was in one of the internment camps when she was very small. She’s a photography major. Wants to be a photojournalist.”

“You’ve lost me, again, dear.”

By the time Kenny is done explaining, they’ve all finished their food.

“The spaghetti was delicious, sir.”

“Would you care for some dessert,” Charley asks.

…

“Walk Mister Potter out. I’ll start the dishes,” Charley orders.

George doesn’t bother arguing.

When they get out to the motorbike, George takes a breath.

“If you’re going to apologise, please, don’t, sir,” Kenny says. “I’m sorry Mrs Williams invited me over without you knowing, but I had a great time.”

“I’m not sorry for her doing so,” George says. “It was nice having you over, Kenny. You don’t need to worry. Charley will be staying the night.”

He can vaguely see Kenny’s nod. “Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight, Kenny.”

…

“I quite like him,” Charley comments. “He barely took his eyes off you.”

“He woke up to find me dying on the floor, Charlotte. Of course, the boy is worried about me. You didn’t help matters, you know, by pulling this stunt, either.”

“Well, if you’d given him what he wanted that night, it wouldn’t have been morning until he found you,” she responds. “And don’t play the fool, darling. Whatever he is, he wants you.”

Sighing, George accepts another dish to dry. “He wants me alive and happy,” is all he’s willing to concede.

“He shares that in common with Jim, then,” she pointedly replies.

“Jim wasn’t a newborn baby when I was helping you bathe your five-year-old son.”

They finish washing the dishes, and she kisses his cheek. “Night, darling.”

“Goodnight, kiddo.”

…

He isn’t surprised when Kenny shows up the next week.


End file.
